


Kiss Me Beneath The Milky Twilight

by perplexed (orphan_account)



Category: Smosh
Genre: Bullying, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Trans Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 23:50:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3187874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/perplexed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Had Anthony not already had his Big Gay Freakout about finding Ian attractive since he came out, he’d probably have had it the moment that Ian’s hand touched his.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss Me Beneath The Milky Twilight

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted more trans representation in this fandom, so I'm contributing this poorly written little fluff fic.
> 
> **Content warning for transphobia, transphobic slurs and bullying.**
> 
> Title taken from Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer!

Anthony thought it was strange, really, how he’d never noticed how good looking Ian was until that moment, with both of them sitting on the floor of his kitchen eating cereal from the box at two in the morning. Ian’s shaggy hair fell into his eyes and his t-shirt clung in all the wrong places but he looked endearing, his shining blue eyes catching Anthony’s.

“So… if you could call me Ian, that’d be cool,” Ian got out through a mouthful of cereal, and Anthony perked up a little.

“Why? Your name’s Iona, dude.” Ian had always been ‘one of the guys’, but Anthony couldn’t fathom why suddenly Ian wanted to be called, well, Ian instead of Iona. Ian scrunched his nose up and delved his hand into the cereal box, digging out a handful of Lucky Charms so he could shovel them into his mouth.

“It’s a long story,” he sighed. Ian hadn’t been planning on really going into it more than that, but Anthony was still looking at him quizzically and raising an eyebrow. “I… I’m a dude, not a girl. I’ve always felt like it, I guess.” A beat of silence passed. “Only my mom knows about it, that’s why she let me cut all my hair off and bought me some baggy shirts.”

“Oh.” Anthony wasn’t sure how to react to his best friend telling him that, but after a moment he extended a hand and put it on Ian’s arm. “You’re still my best friend,” he affirmed, giving Ian’s arm a squeeze. “I’d call you,” Anthony made a raspberry noise, “if that made you happy and that’s how you felt.”

Ian looked as though he was about to cry when he knelt up, discarding the box of cereal and enveloping Anthony in a warm hug.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “It’d mean a lot to me if you could, like, just think of me as your guy best friend now. Nothing’s changed, I’m still the same person, I’m just… Trying to be more open about it, because bottling it up and keeping it inside of me is just hurting me.” Ian pulled back from the hug and wiped his eyes. “Sorry, I’m crying and being a dumbass, but… You don’t know how much it means to me to know that you care about me, even though I’m not the girl you thought I was when I came over today.”

“I don’t care if you’re an alien, man. You’re still my best friend.” Anthony grinned at Ian, but he felt a little misty eyed too if he told the truth. He blamed it on the heat and how hungry he was, though. “And you always will be.”

\---

A few weeks passed and Ian thanked everything in the universe that the bullying at school hadn’t been too bad. He cringed every time a teacher called him Iona, or someone called him a ‘tranny’ or worse. He was thankful that he only had a week before school was out for the summer, and that he finally had his license and could drive around at will once his parents sorted out the paperwork for his new car. That meant even more trips to Anthony’s place, and hopefully a road trip out to LA at some point as well. The thoughts of spending time with Anthony got him through the tougher days at school if he was honest, and most nights they ended up hanging out and playing video games until they had to head home to sleep in preparation for school.

He was driving back to Anthony’s, Anthony in the passenger seat next to him, with a scowl on his face after a particularly nasty day at school. He’d been humiliated in the girl’s locker room, (he hated using it anyway, never felt like he belonged there even before he invested a small fortune in baggy shirts and a more masculine haircut,) and to make matters worse he’d been tripped and was sporting deep grazes on his knees and hands too.

“What the fuck!” Ian exclaimed when a car cut him off, and that was enough for Ian to slam his hand against the steering wheel and start his grazes off bleeding again. Anthony jumped and blinked dumbly a few times.

“Bad day?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. Ian seethed in silence until they got to Anthony’s house, where he got out and slammed his door viciously behind him and promptly crouched down next to the car and started to cry quietly.

Anthony was at his side as fast as possible, gently pulling Ian up off the ground and guiding him into the house. He promised his mom that everything was okay, and not to bother them for a while, but he could feel her eyes boring holes into the back of his head as he guided a sobbing Ian up the stairs and into his bedroom.

Ian dropped face down on the bed and reached for one of Anthony’s pillows, covering his head with it. Anthony sat down next to him and put what he hoped was a comforting hand on Ian’s shoulder.

“What happened?” Anthony asked through the thick silence, and Ian sniffled in response.

“I’m just sick of it, Anthony. I’m sick of people calling me a girl, sick of being called Iona,” he spat the name out like it was salt water on his tongue, “sick of being called a fucking tranny. I’m sure even the teachers do it behind my back.”

Anthony thought silently and toed his shoes off, lying down next to Ian and slinging an arm over his waist, (though they hadn’t cuddled since they were in the seventh grade and thought it would be funny to do it at a sleepover, Anthony felt like Ian needed it more than ever.) Ian sniffled again and pulled the pillow off his head, his hair ruffled and sticking up at odd angles.

“I’m here for you,” Anthony said softly, and that started Ian off sobbing again.

“You’re my best friend, you know that? You’re the only person who didn’t ask five hundred questions when I came out, and you’re the only person who hasn’t ‘jokingly’ called me a tranny or flat out stopped talking to me.” Ian took a deep breath to steady himself, cuddling up against Anthony. His pride could take a small hit for the comfort he so desperately needed from someone other than his mom. “I don’t know how to thank you for that, how to say how grateful I am.”

“Just try and stop crying, okay?” Anthony rubbed Ian’s side. “You’re my best friend too and, I told you, you always will be, don’t worry about that.”

\---

“It’s pretty out here, huh?” Ian said, halfway through climbing carefully onto the hood of his beloved car. It was summer, which meant no school, no bullying and, best of all, more free time to just do whatever in. Him and Anthony were sitting in a small off road car park which looked down over Sacramento from a nearby hill and Anthony had to admit that the far off twinkling lights really were quite pretty.

“Yeah, it’s great.” Anthony smiled and climbed up onto the hood as well, earning a hiss from Ian when his foot slipped.

“Don’t you dare scratch my baby!” Ian joked, offering a hand to help Anthony up onto the hood. Since the start of the summer he’d got a thing called a binder, which Anthony didn’t understand at all until Ian had put it on and shown him the difference between a baggy shirt without one and with one. (“How can a tank top hide your boobs?” Anthony had asked. He still didn’t get how on earth it worked, or what black magic was behind it.)

Ian sat there silently, long having discarded his shoes and socks so he could walk barefoot on the patchy but cool grass. He glanced at Anthony.

“Thanks. For everything these past few months.”

“Hm?” Anthony shook his head. “Don’t thank me, best friends are always there for each other, dude.” Ian smiled and Anthony caught sight of it out of the corner of his eye.

“It means a lot to me to have a friend like you.” Ian’s hand snaked across the hood of the car and reached for Anthony’s.

Had Anthony not already had his Big Gay Freakout about finding Ian attractive since he came out, he’d probably have had it the moment that Ian’s hand touched his. It happened about a week prior to them sitting on the hood of Ian’s car, when Ian was staying at Anthony’s place and was sitting just a little too close for comfort. Anthony had turned his head and realised suddenly, (it had been like a punch to the gut,) that oh, no, Ian was definitely good looking, even moreso with his brows drawn in thicker and carefully placed makeup to make his chin look squarer, and Anthony honestly found himself longing to push his fingers through the wild tangle of Ian’s hair as well. He’d excused himself and sat on the edge of the bath for nearly half an hour, (“What kind of monster shit are you taking?!” Ian had asked, more than once,) breathing shallowly and trying to make sense of what his brain was doing to him.

He liked girls, after all. Anthony liked soft thighs and breasts, liked having long hair to play with, and Ian had always been different to that, even when he was Iona. He was rougher, with small callouses on his hands from playing video games so much, skinny legs and a wiry runner’s frame. There wasn’t anything about him that was soft or gentle, and yet Anthony longed to kiss him and feel if his lips were as rough as his hands, wanted to hold his skinny frame when they hung out… Anthony couldn’t make sense of it, hadn’t really tried to, but in the space of a month or so he’d gone from revulsion at the idea of kissing his best friend to longing for it.

He was snapped from his thoughts when Ian’s warm fingers squeezed his hand.

“What’cha thinking about?” Ian asked. He was staring out over the city when Anthony looked at him, his hair falling into his eyes and catching on his eyelashes when he blinked.

“Hm? Oh, nothing,” Anthony lied, but in the back of his head something was chanting for him to admit that he was thinking about kissing Ian. He blamed it on his hormones but, hormones or otherwise, the urge was overwhelming. So, he leaned across the hood of the car and brushed his lips to the side of Ian’s jaw.

To Anthony’s surprise, Ian flat out giggled. He kept giggling, almost doubling over in fact.

“If you wanted to kiss me,” Ian said through his giggles, “you should have just asked.”

Ian turned his head, still grinning widely. He closed the small gap between him and Anthony, and Anthony was surprised to discover how soft Ian’s lips were. Ian kissed differently to the way Anthony had imagined him to - he was slow and gentle, the hand that wasn’t entwined with Anthony’s coming up to cup the other man’s cheek. Anthony pulled back after a long moment, only to tug Ian into a hug.

“Thanks,” Anthony started, though he didn’t exactly know what he was thanking Ian for. Maybe it was the kiss, maybe it was for not freaking out about it, maybe it was for the implication that Ian had thought about it too and had wanted to kiss him just as badly.

“You’re gonna have to get out of the habit of thanking me every time we kiss,” Ian spoke softly, “Or you’re gonna be saying ‘thanks’ and hugging me a whole lot from now on.”


End file.
